


Vakarian-Shepard

by Nebulad



Series: Sea of Stars [18]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-War, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I did, but this is me telling you that if anyone wears a uniform I’m going to throw cake at them,” she said, jolting a little when the alarm on the coffeemaker went off.</p><p>“Cake?” he asked. She poured it into his mug <i>(World’s Best Shot)</i>, then turned the kettle on to boil water and grabbed her own cup <i>(It was Windy)</i>.</p><p>“Yeah. Cake. Do turians not eat anything at their weddings?” she asked with a frown.</p><p>“Not dessert,” he said.</p><p>“Warn your relatives Gare, because there’s gunna be cake,” she said, going to add it haphazardly to her post-it.</p><p>“Whatever you want, sweetie,” he teased with a shrug. If it meant she felt a little more connected to the day, then it would be fine. Garrus was pretty sure his dad was expecting something a lot more unholy than cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vakarian-Shepard

Faust handed Garrus a small yellow paper and it... wasn’t what he’d been expecting. They were planning the wedding- well, they were giving Solana, Tali, and Miranda some vague details and _they_ were planning the entire day, but same difference- and they’d been told to compile lists of things that _had_ to be included. Garrus had filled a page.

Faust had handed him a sticky-note.

“Keeping it low maintenance, Shep?” he asked, frowning at the letters. His visor’s hard drive must have been getting full because it took more than thirty seconds for the translator to kick in. _Shepard Wants: absolutely no military uniforms from anyone, including the groom; eight bridesmaids; a short dress; and if anyone calls me Mrs. Garrus Vakarian I’m going to break their arms._

“Uh. Not much left to ask for,” she said with a shrug, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “No offence but post-war weddings are depressing as shit. You want coffee?” she asked.

“Sure- and what do you mean?” he asked, getting up to follow her into the kitchen. They’d gotten their own place after both of them had passed both turian and human psych evals, and Garrus had to admit that it was sort of a relief to not be living with his dad anymore. Forgetting that Talus Vakarian seemed to be the only thing in the entire universe that Faust was afraid of (including giant prehistoric leviathans, going head to head with Reapers, and every gang that had ever existed), he was very much an older man. He went to bed early and woke up early, and ate only what was strictly nutritious.

“Well okay- my entire family died when I was sixteen so there’s that- _merde,_ don’t get that look on your face. This doesn’t get any prettier: Anderson’s dead, which pretty much does it for any family I had before the Normandy. Uh, besides that I never really planned on getting married. I don’t really have a binder full of ideas,” she said with a shrug.

“You don’t have any human traditions?” he asked, his mandibles clicking a little. The whole day was mostly going to be a ceremony to satisfy his dad and give their friends an excuse to party, but he’d sort of been hoping she wouldn’t have to feel like a complete outsider. He’d even warned Talus in advanced that some customs wouldn’t be entirely familiar- apparently he didn’t have to bother.

“Nothing that’s completely non-military,” she said, shrugging. “And the only Alliance official besides the Normandy crew that’s invited is Hackett. He’s not allowed to wear a uniform either- can you write that down?” He scrawled it in TC, figuring that at least Solana would be able to read it.

“Are you excited?” he asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as pathetic to her as it did to him. He probably could have brainstormed something better (and less stressful) to cheer her up than a wedding, but as far as _things that are better than being at war_ went, getting married was up there somewhere.

“Yeah- _tabarnak,_ okay. I’m being a shit about this- I’m very excited, but I’m excited about _you._ The whole thing is more or less a formality, and I’m still trying to get through all these shows Solana keeps showing me so I know what to expect from the whole… turian wedding tradition. I don’t really know what it’s gunna be like, so I’m just focused on you. You did see that you’re not allowed to wear dress blues either right? And don’t try to fuck with me either, I looked up what they look like,” she said sternly.

“You liked them on the Citadel,” he said defensively.

“I did, but this is me telling you that if anyone wears a uniform I’m going to throw cake at them,” she said, jolting a little when the alarm on the coffeemaker went off.

“Cake?” he asked. She poured it into his mug _(World’s Best Shot)_ , then turned the kettle on to boil water and grabbed her own cup _(It was Windy)._

“Yeah. Cake. Do turians not eat anything at their weddings?” she asked with a frown.

“Not dessert,” he said. Why in the world would they? He supposed humans, as a society, were a lot more indulgent than turians tended to be but it still seemed incredibly… excessive to serve sweets.

“Warn your relatives Gare, because there’s gunna be cake,” she said, going to add it haphazardly to her post-it. “Or cupcakes. Or something.”

“Whatever you want, sweetie,” he teased with a shrug. If it meant she felt a little more connected to the day, then it would be fine. Garrus was pretty sure his dad was expecting something a lot more unholy than cake.

“But uh- yeah. Besides that, so long as you show up I’ll be happy,” she added, avoiding his eyes to focus on staring at the kettle. She always looked away when she was getting emotional, like just looking at his face would make her dissolve. He sort of liked having that effect on the mighty Commander Shepard.

He stood up to wrap his arms around her waist, his sub-vocals doing a weird and involuntary purr that might have embarrassed him if he thought she understood the implication at all. “Oh I’ll be there,” he promised, wishing she was maybe just a _bit_ taller so he could nuzzle her neck without bending. Apparently she was already pushing human height with six feet, but it wasn’t his fault they were evolutionarily inferior. “Can’t let my best friend get married without me.”

“No Shepard without Vakarian,” she agreed quietly, and there was a beat where they were back on Earth and trying to squeeze each other through armour, and she was as terrified of walking away as he was of letting her go.

“My dad will want you to take my last name, you know that right?” he asked to chase away the ghosts.

“Really? I thought your dad would insist upon you coming to your senses last minute and finding a nice turian girl to settle down with,” she said, hopping up on the counter so she could reach his face. She kissed around his crest, not settling on one spot like human typically tended to with each other.

“I think he’s pretty much come to terms with it at this point- all he can fight about now is insisting you adhere to turian clan rituals despite the fact that you don’t have any reason to.” Garrus very carefully ran his hands up her back, mindful of his talons.

“What if I took Vakarian-Shepard?”

“I don’t think the galaxy has ever been less prepared for something as destructive as a joint Vakarian-Shepard family since the Reapers, but overall I like it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I?? never published this?? and i don't remember why?? but here this is.


End file.
